


Calum's cries

by Bubballoo



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5SOS - Freeform, Angst, Calum centric, Concert, Crying, Cuddles, Cuddling, Cute, Cutting, Depression, Fluff, Hurt, Lost - Freeform, OT4, Oneshot, Running Away, Sad, Self-Harm, Squint a lot and you might even find some cashton, angry, bed sharing, calm, calums a smol bug that needs cuddles, insecure, insecure calum, sadcalum, self doubt, sick, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 09:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11780607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubballoo/pseuds/Bubballoo
Summary: ***But he held off.I can do it, he had told himself.Just a little longer.***OrWhere Calum is mistreated and his music can no longer satisfy for an escape.





	Calum's cries

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: Cutting scene

It was the first time. Calum was only having fun. At the end of the show, the boys mucked around on stage before leaving. He had picked up Ash's drumsticks and started playing the drums. Even Michael was tapping on one. They were laughing and the fans loved it. 

But Ashton saw him, and after they left the stage, he rounded on him. He didn't understand. Sure, Ash was protective of his drums, but he started to really yell at him.

Calum was confused and a little put off. He apologised, but the drummer wouldn't have it. He left the room mad and Calum stood there silently. What just happened?

The other boys weren't there and he was alone. He was sad that Ashton was mad at him and felt his throat start to tighten as he remembered his yelling. 

But Calum dismissed it as an accident not to do again. He would wait until he calmed down before apologising again.

 

***

 

The second time was also out of fun. The boys were fooling around in the dressing room and Calum stole Michael's snapback from him. 

Michael laughed at first and chased him, then started getting serious. The other boys were laughing at the game, but quietened when the boy started getting a tad too physical with trying to retrieve his hat.

Calum had noticed this and admitted defeat, not liking the rough actions from the angry boy. Michael had scowled at him, telling him off in none too kind words. He frowned and said sorry, but Michael flipped him off and left them.

He stood there wondering what he did wrong, then excused himself. He started getting angry. They were fooling around, that didn't mean Michael had to be so rude to him. 

Calum was upset. He wanted to do something, but didn't know what.

 

***

 

The third time it happened, Luke had laughed and made fun of him. During an interview Calum had told a joke. But Luke had looked at him funny and laughed in his face. He felt so embarrassed.

After it, the other boys chuckled among themselves at the terrible joke he had said, Luke especially. He had told Calum he wasn't funny and to find something he was better at, like walking a dog.

Calum's cheeks had burned despite his tan skin. They had made him feel so ashamed and upset by being made fun of. He didn't understand why they were being cruel.

Or maybe he was just becoming weak. Maybe he really wasn't funny. 

Calum became self conscious and started to think more before saying things. He didn't want to be made fun of for saying the wrong things again.

 

***

 

The next few times, it came from all of them.  
He had forgotten the lyrics during a concert and they made fun of him for constantly forgetting.

He had accidentally broken a string off one of Michael's guitars and he screamed at him.

Ashton got annoyed when he kept messing up the bass lines and had ignored him for the rest of the day.

Luke had told him off rudely when he got them lost and made them late to a studio booking.

He had gotten yelled at for making mistakes during a song practice. 

And for months, the list went on.

 

***

 

Calum was getting more and more upset, never being able to get anything right. The boys were getting mad at all his mistakes and Calum was angry in return.

Each day he was struggling more. He had begun to resent the boys and himself. He didn't understand why they didn't like him, why he was such a failure.

And he was tempted. Oh, so tempted.

In need of a release, his music could no longer satisfy for an escape.

But Calum held off. Just a little longer, he had told himself. I can do it.

 

***

 

He couldn't.

It was supposed to have been a good day. They had a week of break and they took the day out to relax together.

Calum got along with them and was truly starting to have fun. But he had a spotted a teenage boy getting bullied. He knew this feeling and got upset at the obviously older guy.

Leaving the other three, he had approached the man and told him to leave the kid alone. The guy refused and taunted him, so Calum got mad and threatened him one last time, planning to leave.

As things would go, however, the man retaliated and had punched Calum across the jaw. He kicked his stomach and the boy finally defended himself. He fought back.

This was where the boys had stepped in. He knew this looked bad and had tried to explain, yet they wouldn't let him. 

Ashton yanked him roughly and pushed calum to the ground. Luke looked down at him disapprovingly, and Michael had gone over to help the other man.

They had then pulled him up and dragged him to the car, despite his complaining.

He had wanted to tell them, wanted them to know he was only defending himself. They should know him, they should know he would never purposefully pick a fight. So why weren't they listening?

He was nudged into the backseat with Michael.  
Words sat on the tip of his tongue, trying to get out.

Once at their house, they had yelled at Calum. They were furious with him, demanding answers yet not letting him speak.

And Calum stood there seething. All these months, this whole past year they could have treated him better.

And he hurt. Hurt from their actions and their words. His so called friends wouldn't even believe him in the simplest matters. 

Luke had shook his head at him and Michael was still yelling at him, Ashton giving him a lecture about his actions and public face.

And he was sick of this. Tears burned and spilled down his cheeks. His fists clenched painfully. Yet there was a small relief in the pain of his nails cutting into his palms.

He had stepped back from his band members. I'm leaving, he had told them. And he did.

 

***

 

He left the house and ran down the familiar street. He was feeling so overwhelmed and confused with everything that happened over time. When did it all go wrong?

He had failed them. Obviously he was the problem. Obviously they didn't like or want him anymore. 

But he didn't know what to do. Calum couldn't go back. But he needed something. Anything. A blade.

 

***

 

Calum didn't return to the house until the very wee hours of the morning. Until he couldn't hold back the urge anymore. 

He wanted to be sure he didn't see them again, but was also practically frozen roaming the streets at night in a thin t shirt.

Not to mention the split lip and bruised jaw. He was still beaten up from the fight.

Calum folded his arms across his shivering form and snuck across the dark yard. He squeezed through his open bedroom window and landed on the floor.

The itch under his skin that had become familiar to him the past few months, buzzing with need. The boy crept into his bathroom and locked the door behind him.

He could finally escape himself. He had been holding off it thinking he could make it, but he couldn't. Today proved that.

His eyes teared up again at the memory and he clenched his jaw. He had no one. His throat closing dangerously, Calum stifled a sob into his hand.

They didn't want him. They yelled at him. He was letting them down.

His head throbbed with the nagging thoughts and he clutched his hair painfully, wanting it to stop.

Tears were now sliding down his cheeks and Calum fell to the ground with a hopeless cry.

Stop, he whispered.

He hid his face into his hands, crying with everything that was bottled up inside him. He needed it.

Lifting a hand, he shakily opened the cabinet and reached inside. His fingers grasped the cheap razor blade and he brought it out. 

The blade. His hand shook holding it. He was doing this.

Letting out another sob, the young boy sat back and held his arm out. He held the trembling blade and rested it lightly on the soft skin of his wrist.

He had to stop to take a few uneven breaths before continuing. Then he pressed down.

The pain was unbelievable. Calum bit his lip harshly to stop his cry. He briefly registered the taste of blood on his tongue.

Waiting a few moments, he suffered through the sharp pain. Then he opened his eyes.

His wrist was bleeding, the blood gushing from the horizontal cut and dripping down the sides onto the floor. Was it supposed to bleed this much?

He sniffled but raised the blade again, slicing another line onto his wrist.

This time it felt better. The pain wasn't as sharp, having become a dull, steady throb. He let out a relieved breath, and did another.

By the fifth cut, Calum was feeling much better.

His crying had stopped and his mind quietened. His breathing had also evened out and he was feeling more free than he had in a long time.

He leaned back against the bath with his eyes closed, basking in the feeling.

His left arm was entirely red and dripping, and his right hand was still clutching a bloody blade. But the buzzing had stopped. His skin no longer itched.

 

***

 

Meanwhile, Luke, Michael and Ashton had become confused and anxious. They knew Calum had been injured and were planning on getting him taken care of.

But the boy had seemed so upset and angry and ran out the house before they could.

Luke didn't understand. Calum had been slowly withdrawing for a while now. Now he disappeared on them. He was worried, and expressed this to the others.

Ashton didn't seem to know what to do. From what he had seen, Calum had picked a fight without any reason. But he had lashed out at them, as if angry they thought this.

Michael was silent though. He loved Calum, they were friends since childhood. But lately he hasn't understood much of him.

The three grew worried as they waited for their dark haired friend, the hours passing slowly.

Reaching midnight and on the verge of sleep, Ashton finally suggested they have a look for him. Michael and Luke instantly agreed and they hurried to the car.

 

***

 

After driving around the streets for nearly an hour with no luck, Luke was practically almost crying, feeling guilty and sick with worry. He wanted Calum back.

Ashton felt bad, maybe they had jumped to conclusions. He just hoped they found him soon.  
It was dark and cold out.

Michael was still staring out the window hoping for a glimpse. He could hear Luke sniffling. His heart was heavy. 

 

***

 

Michael had suggested they turn back in case he went home, and so they drove to the house.

Seeing no sign he was there, they went back in anyway.

Luke sat on the couch and fiddled with his hands and Michael sat beside him. Ashton refused to sit and started pacing. He felt so responsible.

After fifteen minutes of dead silence and thick tension, Luke got up and sighed. He hadn't come back.

Leaving the room, Luke went into Calum's. It was cold, but he crawled into his bed and hugged his pillow. He would wait for him here.

Then Ashton and Michael also entered, having had followed Luke. They both wanted to stay together. 

Luke was staring idly at nothing at first, lost in his thoughts. But then when it finally registered, he wanted to slap himself. 

The light. His stupid bathroom light. A small sliver glowed under the crack of the door.

He bolted out of the bed and pulled on the handle.

Nothing. He tried again. Still, it wouldn't budge.

He called for Michael and Ashton and they hurried over, eyes widening when noticing his bathroom light was on. He must have sneaked in the window. No wonder they didn't see him come in.

Michael tried the door and told them it was locked. But Ashton told them to wait and left, coming back with a butter knife, slipping it into the crack and flipping it up.

He pulled the handle and the door opened.

 

***

 

Luke screamed. And Michael turned his head to the side. Ashton was left staring at the scene.

There laid Calum, slumped on the floor with a puddle of blood near him. He was bloodied and cut.

Ashton swallowed. Had he done this? Had he drove Calum to cut himself? 

Michael looked away, his stomach turning.

Luke rushed forward and ran to him. He scooped Calum into his arms and gasped at his coldness.

He cried for Michael and Ashton. Michael shook himself out of it and joined Luke at Calum's side. Is he alive, he asked.

Luke nodded but avoided looking at his arms. 

Ashton knelt beside them and held Calum's arm, the sight not unfamiliar to him. It was pretty fresh, the lines marring the smooth, tan skin.

Michael patted Calum's cheek and shook him, telling him to wake up. His voice was shaky.

Luke was clutching to him, refusing to let him go. Tears pricked his eyes.

And Ashton began to tenderly care for his cuts, knowing what to do. 

 

***

 

Calum distantly heard voices fading in and out and he grumbled. He could feel touches and sensed blurry movement.

Opening his eyes, Calum immediately woke up. All three boys were directly around him.

There were brushes against his face and warm arms around him, something wet touching his arm.

Calum looked around him and noticed it was Luke holding him. What are you doing, he wanted to ask.

But Luke was just looking at him with shining eyes and apologising. 

Michael's face also came into his vision and Calum realised it was his hand touching his cheek.

He didn't understand.

But then when he looked down, he did. The cuts. He had cut. Why did he let himself cut? And the boys. Why were they here? Why did they care?

Because currently Ashton was wiping a cloth over them, ridding his arm of blood. He watched him dab something into them and he hissed in pain.

Luke held him tighter.

Ashton apologised, and continued taking care of them, Michael keeping quiet but having a stressed look upon his face.

He wanted to cry. 

And so he did. He didn't know what this meant, he didn't know what would happen now and he didn't know anything at the moment.

So he cried. He cried as Luke and Michael held him, as Ashton watched him sorrowfully.

He wept quietly when he was changed into clean clothes and bandaged, carried to bed.

And he sniffled as he reached for Ashton, Luke and Michael holding him close, somehow needing his touch the most. Because he had hurt Calum the most. The others he was closest to and could forgive, but Ashton he had always looked up to.

And Ashton did hold Calum. Because he knew this was what they needed. This was them saying I'm sorry, and, I forgive you. And even, I understand you.

Because they all realised how they hurt Calum. And they were deeply sorry about it.

Michael was now beginning to understand what happened, what went wrong for his friend. What he did.

And Luke realised how his actions hurt Calum.

Calum felt a connection to all of them, they were drawn to each other for a reason.  
He didn't know what was to happen now, what tomorrow would bring.  
But he could feel them reconnecting those faded lines.

Maybe there was another shot for them. He loved Michael. And he loved Ashton. And he loved Luke. This could work. They were on the same level now.

And the four stayed together the rest of the night, Calum feeling like he was finally at home since the longest while.


End file.
